Fletcher, Phineas · published 1631 · first performed or written 1615 [Mar 13] (Annals) pastoral · at University unassigned nearest T32 Rings and jewels as tokens · 493 words
Marked words are the most distinguishing words of the nearest topic T32: ring, ti, gave, finger, jewel, lady, lord, love, invisible, away.
Yet happier he that's slain by loves defying Then she in fate that lives yet ever dying But soon as love he named, I straight was parting He holding me thus speaks; stay Nymph and hear I bring thee news which well deserves thine ear He which most loves thee and thou hatest most Thalander (at his name my guilty heart Ashamed of itself did in me start) He thus went on: Thalander's dead and dying By oath and all his love swore me to see thee With these few words: Thalander quite forsaken Would send to thee what thou from him haste taken All life and health, and ne'er his love removing Wishes thee a friend more happy and as loving And with this prayer these legacies he sends thee This pipe his mother Circe's gift, to bind With this soft whistle the loud whistling wind And with this pipe he left this precious ring Whose virtues covers a venomous tooth or sting Thalander were we nothing like the other Only thy love would prove thou art my brother. Did not this move thee. Glaucilla why should I lie I took them as spoils from a slain enemy, And for these gifts (says he) his last demand Was this, that I might kiss thy hand: The last, the only gift thou canst impart To such, so loving, and now dying heart I grant; be gone, upon the Ring I spy A Ruby cut most artificially, Wherein was framed a youth in fire consuming, And round within it as the Ring I turn, I found these words, Alive or dead, I burn. These words well fit his heart, so you, so I Thalander living loves, and loving dies. But oh those feigned flames, such strange desires, Such true, such lasting, never-quenched fires Have kindled in my breast, that all the Art Of Triphons self cannot allay my smart: Ah Glaucilla, than scornful proud Olinda; Which at so sweet a love a mockery made, Who scorned the true Thalander, loves his shade, Whose thousand graces living could not turn me, His ashes now he's dead to ashes, burn me. If thus you love him, how canst thou allow Thy love to Atyches! late didst thou vow In Neptune's temple to be his for ever. My hand he married there, my heart ah never. Glaucilla, I love him for his love to me, For such his venture, for such his victory, But most, because in love he is my rival, Because he's like and love, my Love Thalander. Ah, if my life will please him, let him take it, He gave it me and I would fain forsake it. Had it been mine to give, my wretched heart, Not worth his dangerous fight, I would impart But that is thine, Thalander thine for ever With me 'tis buried and arise shall never. And wherefore serves this glass? This is a disamour Cosma lately gave me.
seed 43: unassigned · seed 44: unassigned — topic numbers are assigned independently in each run; equal or different numbers say nothing by themselves
Original spelling (EEBO-TCP, unregularized)
Yet happier he that's slaine by loues defying Then she in fate that liues yet euer dying But soone as loue he nam'd, I straight was parting He holding mee thus speaks; stay Nymph and heare I bring thee newes which well deserues thine eare He which most loues thee and thou hatest most Thalander (at his name my guiltie heart Ashamed of it selfe did in me start) He thus went on: Thalander's dead and dying By oath and all his loue swoe me to see thee With these few words: Thalander quite forsaken Would send to thee what thou from him hast taken All life and health, and ne're his loue reoouing Wishes thee a freind more happie and as louing And with this prayer these legacies he sends thee This pipe his mother Cires gift, to bind With this soft whistle the loud whistling wind And with this pipe he left this precious ring Whose vertues cuers a venemous tooth or sting Thalander were wee nothing like the other Only thy loue would proue thou art my brother. Did not this moue thee. Glaucilla why should I lie I tooke them as spoiles from a slaine enemio, And or these gifts (sayes he) his last demand Was thi, that I might kisse thy hand: The last, the only gift thou canst impart To such, so louing, and now dying heart I grant; be gone, vpon the Ring spie A Rubie cut most artificially, Wherein was fram'd a youth in fire consuming, And ound within it as the Ring I turne, I found these words, Aliue or dead, I burne. These words well fitt his heart, so you, so I Thalander liuing loues, and louing dies. But oh those fained flames, such strange desires, Such true, such lasting, neuer-quenched fires Haue kindled in my brest, that all the Art Of Triphons selfe cannot allay my smart: Ah Glaucilla, tha scornefull proud Olinda; Which at so sweete a loue a mockery made, Who scornd the true Thalander, loues his shade, Whose thousand graces liuing could not turne mee, His ashes now hee's dead to ashes, burne mee. If thus you loue him, how cant thou allow Thy loue to Atyches! late didst thou vowe In Neptunes temple to be his for euer. My hand he married there, my heart ah neuer. Glaucilla, I loue him for his loue to mee, For such his venture, for such his victorie, But most, because in loue he is my riuall, Because hee's like and loue, my Loue Thalander. Ah, if my life will please him, let him take it, He gaue it mee and I would faine forsake it. Had it beene mine to giue, my wretched heart, Not worth his dangerous fight, I would impart But that is thine, Thalander thine for euer With mee tis buried and arise shall neuer. And wherefore serues this glasse? This is a dessamour Cosma lately gaue mee.